


Handler Protocol Mandate 384

by buckybleeds, HaniTrash



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Barnes as the Asset, Dissociation, Dubious Consent, Everything hurts but it gets better, HYDRA Trash Party, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Multi, Sam Wilson Does Not Get Paid Enough For This Shit, Whump, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, service top steve rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:22:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28470813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buckybleeds/pseuds/buckybleeds, https://archiveofourown.org/users/HaniTrash/pseuds/HaniTrash
Summary: Sam winds up in over his head when a very specific type of programming gets triggered at the abandoned HYDRA base.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Hydra Agents, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers/Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson
Comments: 37
Kudos: 129
Collections: Hydra Holiday Trash Party Gift Exchange 2020





	1. Art

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cloudycelebrations](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloudycelebrations/gifts).



> This work is a gift for @Cloudycelebrations for the Hydra Holiday Trash Party Gift Exchange 2020.
> 
> It is currently under construction; check back soon for updates!

* * *

* * *


	2. Story: Chapter One

Steve rounded the corner to find Bucky staring at a wall of monitors, eyes flicking back and forth quickly, seemingly watching all eight screens at once. It didn’t take long for Steve to suss out the content; most of it was mission debriefings and reports from the Asset, some was video of experiments and maintenance being done to Bucky’s arm, and one was a training session that looked more like Bucky beating the fuck out of ten guys than anything else—it was the obvious gym setting that made it clear, otherwise Steve wouldn’t be so sure.

Steve cleared his throat, and Bucky’s posture straightened even further (somehow), but otherwise he didn’t acknowledge Steve.

“You good?” Steve asked, noting the rigidity to Bucky’s frame and the cold edge in his eyes.

Bucky nodded, silent, lips pressed together. He turned away from the wall and headed for the doorway with his gun leveled steady on his shoulder.

“There are no needed files on that drive. Not what you are looking for.”

He was down the hall before Steve could ask him anything else. With one last glance at what was playing on the screens, he plugged a USB in, letting the program on it run and upload everything to the Avengers database. He was thankful that they were in a more modern base with all the bells and whistles so they wouldn’t have to lug boxes of files back to the jet.

“You are wasting time. I told you, it is not here.” Steve looked up to find Bucky in the doorway, an angry set to his face, voice lowered and rough, his annoyance with Steve clear.

“Just being thorough,” he replied, with a glance to check on what Sam was doing at the other end of the room.

Bucky huffed and turned on his heel. “This way,” he rumbled.

“What’s up with him?” Sam asked.

“Who knows. I think seeing these files upsets him. We’ve talked about it all, of course, so it’s not like I don’t know. But I’m pretty sure he doesn’t like me actually _seeing_ it.”

Sam made a sound of agreement and followed after Bucky. “I mean, it’s not that hard to understand why he’d feel that. He’s still learning to forgive himself for it; it’s harder for him to accept your absolution of him at the same time.”

“Yeah. I hate that we even had to bring him here. But he knows the base…”

“It’ll be okay, Steve. You’ll smother him in your arms later and force him to let you comfort him, and he’ll be an angry little murder kitten about it, and then in a couple days he’ll be fine again.”

Steve let out a half-laugh, appreciative of Sam’s efforts to cheer him up. If only things were that simple. Bucky accepted affection on his own terms, which was perfectly fine with Steve—he was willing to go as slowly as Bucky needed in his recovery. But everyone seemed to think that they were _a couple_ when Steve himself barely knew what they were. Bucky let Steve hold him when he woke from nightmares and they held hands while watching movies together on the couch... They’d even shared a handful of kisses, though they were few and far between. But the full intimacy they’d once had before the war hadn’t yet returned to their relationship. 

Steve tried to tell himself that it didn’t matter, that he was happy just having Bucky there. Bucky had been callously violated by dozens of men over the decades, put in more than enough situations where he was lucky if his consent was even a passing concern, and Steve would _never_ force himself on Bucky, never ask for more than what was readily offered. He cherished the moments now that Bucky felt comfortable enough to let Steve in and pressed his dry, chapped lips against Steve’s—the most recent of which had resulted in Bucky pinning Steve to the couch as they rutted against each other fully clothed, only for Bucky to disappear for two days after their mutual orgasm—but that didn’t stop Steve from guiltily jerking off in the shower most days, remembering the way he’d worshipped Bucky’s body in the thirties, all the while ashamed that he wanted more.

“In here.” Bucky motioned for them to enter the room behind him and scanned the hallway, eyes constantly on the move and looking—for ghosts or threats, Steve wasn’t sure. Whatever it was that put that edge in Bucky’s eyes, he led them through the complex efficiently, and only thirty minutes later the three of them were climbing back onto the Quinjet. All the files, including the ones they’d been looking for, had been uploaded and were likely already being indexed. Bucky carried an arm—it was unfinished, mostly just the framework with some wiring inside, but they’d grabbed it for Tony to study, hoping it might provide some additional insight into the one Bucky wore. Steve had offered to carry it, but Bucky had insisted. _“My hardware. My responsibility,”_ he’d said, and Steve hadn’t pushed.

“Good job, guys. In and out, no problems. Glad the base was as empty as it should have been.” Steve clapped them both on the shoulder. “Why don’t you secure that in the storage hold before you disarm?” he said to Bucky, motioning with a tip of his chin towards the cargo bins next to the weapons lockers. “I’ll get us up and moving.” 

Steve held Sam’s gaze for a moment and quickly flicked his eyes in Bucky’s direction and back. Sam nodded once, slightly, as he shrugged out of his jetpack. Sam would keep an eye on Bucky, try to get him to talk and lighten his mood. They had gotten into some of the most entertaining debates about food and music in the past, and Steve assumed that Sam would attempt to spark just such a conversation now. 

“Dude, what are you doing?” Sam exclaimed just moments later, and Steve glanced over his shoulder. He did a double-take and slammed the autopilot button as he leapt from the seat. 

“Bucky? Buck, what’s going on, pal?” Steve asked, cautiously approaching him with his arms open in a non-threatening pose. Bucky’s weapons had all been returned to the rack with the rest of his items, and he’d removed his tac jacket and undershirt with surprising quickness.

“Asset secondary function protocol, Sir. Ready to comply.” Bucky bent over and quickly removed his boots. 

“Asset—no. _No._ That is not who you are. You are Bucky Barnes.”

Bucky paused unbuttoning his pants and looked up at Steve. “Protocol 43, Sir?”

Steve’s brain scrambled to catch up with the situation. “Proto— _oh fuck.”_ He pinched the bridge of his nose as he tried to figure out what he’d missed. “Shit, shit, shit. Sam. We have a problem.”

“You fucking think?”

“Sam, you were in the room before me. All those monitors, the videos he was watching. Did you hear the trigger words on them?”

“I mean, I heard a few different languages, but they were all playing at the same time…”

“Fuck!” Steve turned and knocked his shield off the bench, sending it careening throughout the small space. Bucky flinched and hurried to shove his pants down. Sam turned around immediately.

“I’m out. I’ll fly. You fix this. This is way above my paygrade, man.”

“Sam.” Steve reached out and snagged Sam’s arm as he moved past. “Wait.” 

Sam stopped, but kept his back to Bucky’s now naked body.

“Steve. I love you like a brother. I do. But I have zero interest in seeing _you_ naked, let alone your boy. Not to mention whatever is apparently about to happen.”

“Sam, you _can’t_ leave. Or he’ll get worse.” 

“I fail to understand how my presence will affect the situation.”

Steve locked his eyes onto Sam’s and took a deep breath. “Jarvis. Please explain Asset Secondary Function, SF Sub-Protocol 43, and also—” his voice broke and he swallowed hard, forced the remainder out through a clenched jaw. “Also SF Handler Protocol Mandate 384 for Agent Wilson. Security override Rogers, Steven G., access code 031017.”

Sam’s brows drew together in confusion and he turned slightly to the side so he faced Steve. For his part, Steve held his ground, no matter how desperately he wanted to crawl into a hole and die. 

From the corner of his eye, he could see Bucky—Steve _refused_ to think of him as the Asset, even if he would need to address him as such—waiting patiently, kneeling naked on the floor in the middle of the jet. 

“Asset, Protocol 43. Put a cushion under your knees, Bucky.”

“Understood, Sir. Thank you, Steve, that’s awful nice of you.”

Poor Sam looked as lost as ever, until Jarvis finally began to speak. 

“Override accepted, Sir. Agent Wilson, the files requested are as thus: _Asset Secondary Function_ initiates at the completion of a mission, or whenever a Handler or a superior requests the Asset be taken out of storage for such. _Secondary Function_ directives are for the Asset to provide entertainment and rewards to all commanding officers and operatives present, typically in the form of sexual pleasure.”

Sam’s eyes went wide as he tore his gaze from the holodisplay of files, snapping his head around to look at Steve. _‘No,’_ Sam mouthed, shock and revulsion clear on his face. 

Steve nodded tersely, too busy trying not to lose what little control he currently had on himself to be able to form words as he waited for Jarvis to continue.

_“Secondary Function Sub-Protocol 43_ requires the Asset to take on mannerisms and speech consistent with footage and documentation of James Buchanan Barnes and respond to the name ‘Bucky,’ while addressing his primary handler as ‘Steve,’” Jarvis continued.

“Jesus,” Sam breathed.

“It is important to note that the Primary Handler should maintain praise and congenial behavior with the Asset at all times during use of Sub-Protocol 43 to obtain optimal results from the Asset.”

“Steve, this is so fucked up.”

Steve flicked his eyes up to the ceiling, silently communicating with Sam, saying _but wait, there’s more!_ while Sam shook his head in disbelief. 

_“Secondary Function Handler Protocol Mandate 384_ ,” Jarvis continued in his calm voice, “states that due to the events of The Dallas Incident (which was preceded by the successful assassination), a minimum of two agents must be present to ensure the overall safety of the Asset whenever the Asset’s Secondary Function has been initiated. The Primary Handler is to be held responsible for any and all injuries to the Asset that impede transport or storage, and is to personally oversee all acts performed by or to the Asset.”

Sam’s horror matched Steve’s initial reaction when he’d first heard the specifics of HYDRA’s “ _Secondary Function”_ for Bucky. Even after he was aware of the general theme, he’d gotten physically sick more than once while reading through files and viewing footage. He felt like he was going to be sick now, in this situation that they’d somehow found themselves. 

“He knows all this?” Sam finally managed, voice rough, as he motioned towards Bucky.

“He does,” Steve nodded. “The Asset knew. Bucky knows.”

“Who else?” 

“His therapist. _My_ therapist. Natasha. Whoever is left of the upper levels of HYDRA that we haven’t caught yet. And now you.”

“Jesus. So, what do we do?”

“We… We have to…” Steve pressed his lips together and stared at Bucky’s name, painted onto the locker next to Steve’s. “We’ve learned the hard way that the more I fight it and try to snap him out of it when he slips, the more distressed he’ll get, and the more he’ll cling to the _protocols_ and the trained behaviors.”

“So... what? You’re telling me that I have to rape your boyfriend while you watch and encourage him?”

“I…” Steve swallowed down the bile burning the back of his throat and fought the tears that threatened. “I can’t ask that of you, Sam. I’d never ask anyone to do that.”

“But what happens if I don’t… _participate?_ Jarvis said there’s supposed to be two and Bucky knows that. And you just said yourself, he’ll spiral if we fight the… the _programming.”_ Sam spat the last part, making his opinion of what HYDRA had done to Bucky perfectly clear.

Steve shrugged. “I’ll think of something. Get him somewhere safe. Wait it out.”

“How did that go the last time you tried to wait out a slip?” Sam asked, and sighed heavily when Steve didn’t answer. He didn’t need to, because everyone knew. 

Bucky had slipped a few times before. Sometimes he’d wake up in the morning with something tripped in his brain, and he'd be in “Asset Mode” for a while. Usually, Steve managed to hide it from the rest of the team. So long as whatever Bucky was doing at that time didn’t affect anyone else in the tower, Steve dealt with it on his own until they had a chance to talk it through with the doctors. The last time Steve had fought it and not tried to redirect and work with it, they had ended up needing the Hulk Bunker and an ultrasonic blast for some creative cognitive recalibration. The only positive thing to come from that episode was Bucky spending the entire next day glued to Steve’s side on the couch, letting Steve hold him and run his fingers through Bucky’s long hair.

“Look, man,” Sam said. “I don’t wanna do this. I can see that you don’t want to either. At the same time, I don’t want him to suffer more. So we need a solution. You’re the mastermind here; find us a loophole or something.” Sam crossed his arms across his chest and looked expectantly at Steve.

“I don’t…” Steve ran his fingers through his hair in frustration, searching his memory for some tiny detail he might have overlooked. He’d read every page pertaining to Bucky that Natasha had dumped and a million more that they’d taken from HYDRA bases. There had to be _something._ “Wait. Maybe…” He looked over his shoulder at the love of his life, who was currently kneeling naked in the middle of a Quinjet, waiting to _service_ both him and Sam. “As long as we follow the rules, he should be good. In theory. So… There’s nothing in any of the documents that states it _has_ to be painful for him, even though that’s what they did.”

“Okay, that’s a good loophole to start with.” Sam nodded his head in encouragement. “So what do we do?”

“I think… I think if you just have him give you a blowjob, that should be fine.” Steve’s breath hitched and he closed his eyes at the thought of what they were about to do. Sure, Bucky had made it clear that he _did_ still want Steve and _did_ still want to be intimate, but they hadn’t even gotten to blowjobs between themselves yet.

Sam swiped his hand across his face as he spoke. “Christ, I don’t even like guys, man. I certainly ain’t interested in getting intimate with _your_ guy.”

“Be that as it may, you’re going to have to find a way. I’ll take care of—of the other part.” The words cut as they fell from his lips, flaying Steve open before they’d even started. It was awful enough to think about the nameless, faceless men who’d accosted Bucky, and even worse to know that he’d once considered some of them friends. But to be the one directing the show? To be the one delivering the other half of his soul back into that nightmare? He didn’t know how he was going to live with himself after this, let alone expect Bucky to ever talk to him again. 

“Technically, this follows the letter of the mandates and protocols,” Steve added. “And he views me as his Primary Handler when he’s like this, so he should listen to me.”

Sam looked over to the lockers. “Okay. So. First, I’m gonna go find whatever liquor Tony’s got stashed on this jet and chug about half of it. And you are gonna go to the medical supplies. Look for a catheter kit, you should be able to find actual lube in there. If not, there might be tubes of vaseline or something. I know Tony keeps these planes stocked and we didn’t take the sportscar, we took the goddamned limo today and for that I am extremely grateful.”

There was a reason that Sam was his number two, and right now Steve was being reminded of it. Normally Steve had no trouble remaining calm and thinking clearly, but with Bucky compromised, all of his ability to be rational had disappeared. 

“Thank you, Sam.” 

Sam nodded and clapped him once on the shoulder before turning away. Steve took a deep breath and turned to face Bucky, plastering a fake smile on his face and portraying a confidence he didn’t feel.

“Hey, Buck. How you doing over here?”

Bucky’s head snapped up and a grin spread across his face. “Hey there, doll. I was wondering how much longer you were gonna keep me waiting. Gettin’ pretty lonely over here by myself.” 

Steve almost believed it, the act was so good. But the light didn’t quite reach Bucky’s eyes, his smile just a bit off.

“Sorry about that, honey. Had to iron out a few things first.” Steve fell to his knees in front of Bucky and cupped his face. “If you can hear me in there, I’m so, so sorry,” he whispered. 

“’Course I can hear you, doll, I’m right here.” 

The knife in his gut twisted, dug a little deeper. Having to do any of this in general was awful. Having to involve Sam was even worse. But if Steve was to have any hope of successfully completing this mission—and he had to view it as a mission, because he’d never willingly do what he was about to—he needed to utilize Protocol 43. He would never manage to keep an erection for the Asset. Not when he knew about how the Asset had been treated. But he could try to fool himself enough with the Asset acting like Bucky to at least manage to finish the job. 

“I gotta go get a few supplies, honey. You be real nice to Sam while I do that, okay?” Steve couldn’t bring himself to call Bucky _sweetheart,_ not in this situation, and he hoped that Bucky would recognize that at some point when he eventually remembered everything that had happened here today. So far Steve’s only solace was that Bucky kept calling him _doll,_ which had always been reserved for the girls, and hadn’t used his special pet name for Steve. Of course, he hadn’t used that pet name _at all_ since returning to the tower; but if it came out of the Asset’s mouth right now, Steve might not make it through the night. 

“Sure thing, Steve. You know any friend of yours is a friend of mine.”

Steve locked his jaw against a scream that was threatening to bubble out of his throat, and instead stole a moment for himself; brushed his lips across Bucky’s for what he hoped wouldn’t be the last time. “You’re so good, Bucky,” he forced out, remembering the mandate about praise and encouragement.

“Always good for you, Steve. You know that.”

The scream forced itself out as a stifled cry, and Steve pressed a quick kiss to Bucky’s forehead before he stood and turned away. He noted that Sam had removed his padding and protective gear, and realized that he needed to take his own gear off as well. Doing this was bad enough, but doing it while in full uniform seemed even more blasphemous. He stripped off his jacket and utility belt, tossing them carelessly aside as he headed for the med corner.

He took a few moments to gather himself, standing with his head down and his arms braced on the narrow counter, trying not to listen to the Asset-as-Bucky coming onto Sam. Steve had witnessed it first-hand often enough to know that it was wrong, that the cadence was off, and this wasn’t how Bucky flirted, but that didn't make it hurt any less.

***

“How’d you… Really?” Sam asked, eyeing the full-sized bottle of lube in Steve’s hand when he returned. 

Steve shrugged. “Tony.” 

Sam shook his head with a chuckle. “Speaking of him”—he held the bottle of vodka out to Steve—”you want some? Know you can’t get drunk, but it’s the good stuff.” 

“Yeah, gimme that.” 

Steve upended the bottle and did what Sam had originally threatened to do—he chugged half of the liquid inside before reaching over Bucky to hand it back. A small part of him wanted to just smash the bottle, and then his own head, against the wall of the jet, rage at the entire situation, bloody his knuckles against something—anything—until his body was depleted and he collapsed. But none of that would ever remove the image of Bucky— _his_ Bucky—with his mouth on his best friend’s cock.

“That was weirdly hot,” Sam commented before taking another swig himself.

Steve forced a bitter laugh out. It was either laugh or cry, and he was trying to hold out against the crying for as long as he could. The liquor burned hot through his system, giving him at least a couple minutes of lightheadedness as he pulled on the nitrile gloves. He couldn’t scrub his hands clean of the dirt and dust of the HYDRA base until they were back at the tower, and even though the serum kept Bucky from getting infections, he still wasn’t going to do this with dirty hands. Steve would feel like Lady Macbeth after this no matter what, but that didn’t mean Bucky had to be even more uncomfortable as his system worked through something Steve had carelessly introduced into a sensitive body part.

“Look at you. So good. Treating Sam so nice for me,” Steve choked out. 

Bucky hummed and wiggled his ass in invitation, then pulled his mouth off of Sam’s cock and threw a glance over his shoulder at Steve.

“Come on, Steve. I got another perfectly good hole right here for you.” 

“That you do, honey. Such a pretty hole. And it’s all for me, isn’t it?”

“Always, doll.”

If there was a hell, Steve was in it and burning alive. 

_“Christ.”_ Steve heard Sam curse under his breath, and against all better judgement, he looked up to see where the two were joined. Sam sat on one of the benches, eyes closed, head back. Bucky was on all fours between them, going to town on Sam, who appeared to be slowly getting with the program. Steve had been on the receiving end of plenty of blowjobs from Bucky both before and during the war. He knew how talented that tongue and those lips were, and he couldn’t help but begin to grow hard himself at the memory. 

“Yeah, there you go honey. Doing so well. Knew you’d take good care of him for me.” Steve teased one well-lubed finger just inside of the tight ring of muscle as he spoke, tried to focus on getting Bucky open for him and not the fact that he was sharing Bucky with someone else once again, when Bucky had been so relieved to learn that he no longer needed to pretend to like women and would be able to be Steve’s and Steve’s alone. 

Bucky’s body readily accepted the intrusion, and he pushed back for more. Steve tried not to think about how that reaction had been conditioned into Bucky as he worked a second finger in. Bucky rocked back and forth, alternately fucking himself on Steve’s fingers and taking Sam’s cock deep into his throat. Without the benefit of feedback from Bucky, Steve went as carefully as he could, waiting as long as he thought necessary before adding a third and then a fourth finger.

_“Fucking hell. Steve, I’m—”_ Sam shifted, tried to reach for the base of his cock with one hand while placing the other on Bucky’s shoulder.

“No,” Steve ordered harshly. “No messes. Make him take it.” Sam made a strangled sound, and Steve could feel Sam’s eyes on him as he stretched forward and took his free hand from Bucky’s hip to thread it through his hair—and fuck but he’d never be able to play with Bucky’s hair again without thinking about this. He pushed Bucky forward, holding him firm on Sam’s cock. “Come on, honey. Do your job.” Steve’s voice broke, came out harsh as he finished the command. “Swallow it all, like a good boy.” 

Sam grunted.

Bucky’s throat worked.

Steve wept.


	3. Chapter 3

Steve released his hold on Bucky’s head, let him do what he needed to clean Sam up, while continuing to work his fingers and keep Bucky stretched wide. He also kept purposefully brushing against Bucky’s prostate at random intervals, eliciting the occasional shiver from Bucky as pleasure zinged through him. 

“Thank you, Sir,” Bucky said. His voice was rough as he looked up to Sam. 

Steve exhaled heavily and got himself under control, wiped away the tears with the back of his free arm. “Sam, you can go resume control of the jet. I’ll take it from here,” he said gruffly.

Sam stood and silently tucked himself away, lips pressed together tightly, while Steve kept his eyes averted. He dropped a hand to Steve’s shoulder as he passed, squeezing briefly before moving on. Steve looked up at him, noting the hard set to his jaw and the sympathy in his eyes. He didn’t deserve it. They wouldn’t be in this situation if he’d been more focused on Bucky while in the base. 

“Your turn, Steve. Come on, doll, don’t keep me waiting.”

Steve waited to open up his pants until he heard Sam sit in the chair and start tapping buttons and flipping switches. Not because he didn’t want Sam to see his cock, that had happened a few times already. They were a team, and just like any typical locker room, sometimes there was just no avoiding seeing each other naked. 

No, he waited because he didn’t want Sam to see the hair-trigger Steve had until he was about three orgasms in. The serum had made him extra sensitive, and he didn’t want Sam to see the mess that he was about to make of his best friend. Being inside Bucky again was something he’d been waiting more than a year for, and he knew it’d be embarrassing enough without an audience.

Bucky’s well-lubed channel welcomed Steve, enveloped him, felt every bit as good as he remembered. He groaned as Bucky clenched tight when he bottomed out, and just one twitch of his hips into that tight heat set him off. He could have had Bucky give him a blowjob—during the war, that’s what they’d done, gotten a couple orgasms out of Steve first before actual penetration occurred—but he didn’t want to explain to Asset-Bucky about the quick response.  _ Bucky  _ had known, been prepared, had never once choked, and often held on, swallowed down load number two as well, since Steve barely softened between orgasms. 

Now, Steve forced himself to move and continued to fuck Bucky through his orgasm and overstimulation, afraid stopping might make the Asset think something was wrong and trigger some other sort of response. It only took a few minutes for him to return to full hardness, and he began to fuck Bucky in earnest, driving in forcefully enough for him to feel it, but not hard enough to hurt. Bucky braced himself and rocked back into Steve, slight gasps and small sounds occasionally escaping his throat. 

“Let it out, honey. Let me hear it. Come on,” Steve encouraged. “You feel so good, Bucky. So good on my cock.”

“Feels so good inside me,” Bucky answered in an echo of Steve’s words. “So good. Give it to me, Steve. Harder. Come on, doll, I know you can.” 

The words weren’t right, but they were close enough, and they sent Steve over again. 

He slowed his movements, paused with his cock buried to the hilt. Bucky clenched around him, tried to entice him to move. As nice as it felt, he couldn’t bring himself to keep going. Not like this.

“Bucky,” he rasped. “Wait.”

The way Bucky’s entire body tensed at the word, as if he was expecting punishment for some unknown reason, made Steve’s stomach twist even more. 

“I need… Fuck, I can’t do this. I need you to roll over, honey.”

“Sir?” 

“On your back. I want to see you.”

“Understood, Sir.” Bucky’s voice was small, quiet and reserved,  _ resigned.  _ Bucky had told him that some of the men had liked to watch him cry, and Steve realized that he was anticipating pain. He mentally doubled-down on his plan.

Bucky rolled over and bent his legs back, holding himself open with his hands behind his knees. His face was slack, closed-off and distant. Steve couldn’t abide that. He pushed back in, watched his come push out around his cock and slide down between Bucky’s cheeks.

“Look at that, honey. So full of come. Nice and messy, just like the good little hole you are.” He looked up and saw Bucky’s jaw clench.

“Look at me,” Steve ordered. Hard grey eyes met his. “This is not a punishment. This is a reward for you as well. I want you to enjoy this. You are allowed to take pleasure.” 

“Sir?” Bucky asked again, brows twitching in confusion.

Steve dragged his fingers through the line of come and wrapped his hand around Bucky’s cock, flushed an angry red between them and dripping precome. Bucky hissed at the contact.

“You are allowed to come whenever you need to.” He stroked firmly, once, root to tip, and swirled his palm over the head like he knew Bucky liked. “In fact, I  _ insist  _ that you come. The protocol says that all personnel involved receive a reward, right? And you were on that mission, too. So I’m giving you a reward.” Steve rolled his hips as he pumped his hand. Bucky’s back arched and his eyes squeezed shut, teeth digging into his bottom lip as he whimpered. 

“Hold onto me,” he murmured into Bucky’s ear, falling to one elbow. “Hold onto me, honey, because I’m not stopping ‘til you come. Wanna feel you all over my hand. Make a mess of me like I made of you.”

“Steve!” Bucky cried, hands flying up to grasp his shoulders. “Sir! Oh,  _ oh!”  _

Bucky’s body shuddered as he shouted, legs wrapping around Steve’s hips like a vise. Steve growled and thrust his hips faster, fucking Bucky through the tight clench of his orgasm and chasing his own release. 

Steve came with a heavy exhale and stilled, head hanging as he caught his breath. He could have gone again—normal is about five orgasms before he’s truly sated and actually goes soft—but he hoped that he’d done enough. Still braced on one arm, he pulled his t-shirt off with his other hand, ripping it off his arm, and used it to clean off Bucky’s stomach. He was about to pull out and clean Bucky up the rest of the way when he felt a shift in Bucky’s body as he tensed again.

“Steve?” 

Steve’s heart jackhammered in his chest, and his breath faltered, as if he were having an arrhythmia attack again for the first time since before the serum. Bucky’s voice was cautious, small, and  _ scared.  _

Steve swallowed hard and forced himself to raise his head and look at Bucky. It was hard to articulate the subtle difference in his eyes, but Steve knew immediately that he was looking at  _ Bucky,  _ not the Asset. 

“Steve—wha—what’s going on?” 

The words broke something loose inside of Steve, and the tears poured out before he could force any words past the tight swelling of his throat. 

“Bucky, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry—” His voice trembled almost as much as his hand and he hastened to pull out of Bucky and get away from him. 

“Did—I slipped?”

“Yeah. I didn’t notice until we were on the jet. I’m sorry. This is all my fault. I shouldn’t have left your side in there. Bucky—Buck,  _ let go.”  _

“Do you  _ not  _ want to fuck me, then?”

“I— What? You know I do! Did.  _ Do.  _ But not like this!” Steve struggled to get out of the hold of Bucky’s arms and legs, which he had not removed from Steve’s body when he’d woken. 

“Steve.  _ Steve.  _ Stop. Listen to me.”

Steve whimpered, but he froze. Bucky moved a hand to his face. Warm metal cupped Steve’s jaw, and he had a moment where he thought  _ if he hits me with that hand, I absolutely deserve it.  _ Bucky’s eyes searched Steve’s face. Steve heard Bucky’s heart racing, saw the fluttering of his pulse in the vein on his neck. The tip of Bucky’s tongue peeked out between his lips, and settled in the corner of his mouth, a sign Steve knew meant that Bucky was thinking, organizing his thoughts and choosing his words. 

“Steve. Do you want to know what has always stopped me from taking things this far with us?”

“I was pretty sure it had something to do with all the years you’d been violently raped, and that you were trying to reclaim your bodily autonomy,” he answered. 

“M’kay, Dr. Thompson. Whatever. The therapy wording is fine. And not exactly wrong. But there’s something I haven’t told you. When we get close, it’s not  _ me  _ who freaks out. It’s  _ the Asset.  _ I can hear him in the back of my brain, feel him in there, screaming that I’m going to get punished, that I’m not supposed to be  _ enjoying  _ it, not supposed to get anything out of it myself. That you’re trying to trick me, and it’s going to hurt. It’s the conditioned response in my brain.”

Steve sniffed, kept his jaw locked tight so he didn’t say something wrong as he looked down at Bucky through his tears. Bucky looked up at him adoringly, as if Steve had hung the moon in the sky.

“Do you realize what you just did, Steve? You showed the Asset that you wouldn’t hurt him. That you loved  _ him,  _ too. So if you stop now, and don’t make love to me properly for the first time since the goddamned war, I swear to  _ god  _ I will punch you in this perfect goddamned jaw and break it again.”

From the cockpit, Sam cleared his throat.

“Samuel Thomas Wilson, I swear on my mother’s grave I will murder you in your sleep if you don’t close that goddamned door right now.”

“As much as I hate to cockblock you, Terminator, because it sounds like you both  _ really  _ need to get laid properly, we’re about five minutes from the complex. So you might wanna get some clothes on.”

Bucky growled in frustration and banged his head against the floor. “I can’t fucking catch a break. Jesus Christ.” 

“I… Buck?” Steve was still frozen in place, hovering over Bucky’s body. It wasn’t often that he was completely lost, unsure of what to do. But Bucky hadn’t released his hold of Steve, and imminent landing or not, Steve wasn’t moving until Bucky made him. Not now that his world was finally righting itself.

“Stevie,” Bucky exhaled, sliding his hand from Steve’s jaw to the back of his head. He pulled Steve down, kissing him with all the intensity and passion and need that he’d been holding back all this time. Steve moaned into the kiss, felt himself growing hard again as Bucky’s teeth sank into his bottom lip. Bucky kissed him the way he had during the war, the way he had when they shared a shitty apartment in a different life, a different world.

Bucky kissed Steve like he owned him, and he did, and he knew it.

“Take me to bed, sugar.”

Steve wept, but they were tears of joy.  _ Sugar.  _ The one thing he’d longed to hear out of Bucky’s mouth more than any other word. 

Something fell on them, covering over their heads. Steve tugged the fabric away as Sam spoke. “Put some pants on, at least. Just to get through the building. Not sure you want everyone to literally see your ass.”

This time it was Steve who growled Sam’s name in response. 

“Listen, you do you, okay? I’m not gonna kink shame anyone.  _ But,  _ don’t forget that Wanda is in that building. And plenty of other innocent people who probably don’t want to see it.”

Bucky laughed as he untangled himself from Steve and shoved his legs into the sweatpants Sam had provided. Steve hastily tucked himself away, hissing at the constriction against his cock, and then quickly cleaned up their mess and supplies.

“You going to put your boots back on?” Steve asked Bucky, gesturing towards his bare feet as they walked towards the back of the plane.

“Nope.” Bucky smirked a half second before he threw himself into Steve’s arms.

“Oof!” Steve stumbled and caught his balance, instinctively wrapping his arms around Bucky’s back and settling his hands on the man’s ass as thick thighs secured themselves around Steve’s waist once more.

The ramp lowered and Steve stepped out, a happy, laughing Bucky in his arms. From the corner of his eye, he caught Nat’s raised eyebrow as she greeted Sam, and saw Sam’s single shake of his head as he returned her kiss.

“Steve, we need you two to come—” Maria started, striding purposefully towards them. She was nearly running to catch up with Steve’s long strides and head start as he reached the elevators.

Bucky glared at her and growled possessively as he turned Steve’s face to his and kissed him soundly once more. A startled squeak came from her, which made Steve absurdly proud—she was hard to rattle.

“Hill, let them go,” he heard Sam say quietly. “Trust me. This is long overdue. I’ll handle the debrief. They’ll be back.” Steve stepped into the elevators and made a show of pressing Bucky against the wall. “In a few days,” Sam added. Steve hid his smirk in Bucky’s neck.

“Steve.” 

“Mmm?”

“Look at me.”

Steve lifted his head from the line of kisses he’d been trailing along the junction of flesh and metal.

“I love you. So, so much. Thank you for being patient with me. Waiting for me.” He placed a hand over Steve’s heart, and Steve mirrored the action.

“Always, sweetheart. End of the line, right?”

Bucky’s eyes shone with the threat of tears as he nodded his head. “Yeah, sugar. ‘Til the end of the line.”


End file.
